ST. LOUIS — If linebackers start leaning forward before the snap to stop the run, football calls play action and throws downfield.
If a center gets double-teamed in the post, basketball passes it out and shoots from the perimeter.
If infielders and outfielders stack up where they believe a hitter’s swing is most likely to send the ball, hitters complain until baseball changes the rules.
OK, that’s unfair. It’s a heck of a lot harder to hit a baseball than it is to find an open receiver or swish a 3-pointer.
You have to be a remarkable athlete to hit a baseball well enough to play in the majors. What you may not have to do as early as the 2023 season is be able to hit the baseball in any way but one. One of the hardest things in sports could be getting easier soon.
The Cardinals shifted against Ted Williams in the 1946 World Series. Cy Williams faced an overloaded infield in 1920. Speaking to the Los Angeles Times in 2015, broadcasting legend Vin Scully said he knew of evidence of defensive shifts in baseball dating back as far as 1877. But now, we are supposed to believe, is the time those dastardly defensive shifts must be stopped. Defenses must be punished for turning preparation into an advantage. Hitters must be rewarded for refusing to adjust to an overwhelming trend.
If you object to this kind of thinking, now is the time to holler. If it doesn’t make a difference, it will at least blow off some steam.
One of the few newsworthy nuggets to recently emerge from the mostly stalled baseball labor negotiations is that players and owners are thinking alike when it comes to limiting or banning shifts.
Players, depending on how negotiations in other areas go, could be good with the league implementing a pitch clock, enlarged bases and shift restrictions in time for the 2023 season.
Maybe soon the two sides will get around to figuring out that 2022 season?
Sign me up for the pitch clock, though. Keeping pitchers working and keeping hitters in the box could cut some serious dead time. It’s hard to get too worked up about the size of the bases. It should not be hard to get worked up about banning the shift.
Bad idea.
First, there’s no convincing evidence it will work.
Citing a Baseball Info Solutions report produced during the pandemic-shortened 2020 season, The Washington Post estimated removing defensive shifts would have led to a 1.5% uptick in hits over a normal 162-game season. That seems like a pretty significant fundamental change for a potentially small reward, one that could open the door for big unintended consequences.
Such as ...
At what point can defenders start moving toward their preferred spot on the field? Will there be a process for challenging and reviewing if a defender has crossed an invisible line too soon? What happens when hitters start complaining about defenders drifting toward their preferred destinations while they are trying to track a pitchers’ release point?
For the sake of the argument, let’s say it does work.
More balls in play would be good for the game. No debate there. A trending away from three true-outcome baseball — strikeout, walk, home run — would do more to highlight players’ speed and skill. All for that.
But at what cost?
Information and instincts would have to be ignored. Strategy sharpened through hard work and preparation would be shelved. Creativity would be quelled.
Why?
Mostly because hitters have been more successful at creating an evil shift narrative than they have been at combatting shifts. Usually, describing elite athletes as helpless would be insulting. In this case, they prefer it.
Every front office has learned to hire employees who can mine data for hitters’ tells. Every manager has learned that using this information is the key to keeping a job. Every pitcher has learned to get on board and pitch in ways that make shifts even more effective.
Has every hitter crippled by the shift done everything in his power to fight back?
No chance.
“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to hit a double or triple when I have six guys standing in the outfield,” Yankees slugger Joey Gallo recently told The Athletic.
If you told Gallo he could not hit a ball over the Rocky Mountains, he would probably tell you to stand back and let him try. But fight back against the shift? No way. Can’t do it. Absurd to even imply. Rules must be changed.
The entire debate has left the rails. It no longer can be discussed with sanity present. The evil shift narrative prevails.
Suggesting that a guy bunts to a wide-open side of the field is a good way to get mocked. That’s what the defense wants, we are told. That always is funny to hear, because what the defense seems to really want is for that hitter to make an easy out into the shift.
Mentioning that not every hitter falls into the category of guys who are better off trying to hit a homer over the shift is treated as crazy talk. Certain guys really should swing away, no matter what. The problem is way too many guys think they are one of those guys.
Wondering why hitters who use the most advanced technology in baseball history to track everything from exit velocity to launch angle don’t spend more time using tech to become more shift-proof is fan fiction. Same goes for wondering how fast things would change if teams started increasing the financial rewards to hitters who are less likely to be snuffed out by shifts. Same goes for mentioning that it wasn’t all that long ago that hitters came to the plate with a plan that depended on the game scenario, and sometimes even changed that plan during an at-bat. Believe it or not, some guys still do it.
It’s true that baseball never has witnessed defensive shifts at the rate the game sees them now, because they work. Pitchers have increased their velocity to record averages. More data on hitters is available, and teams can dig through it faster. No one should ever argue that hitting is anything but very, very hard.
But messing with the rules in a seismic way should be resisted until it’s undeniable that hitters have shifted from won’t adjust, to can’t.
